Skyrim's Lost
by LiterateBushMechanic
Summary: Dying. Is it a chance of a second life or is it returning to your first one? Jarek finds himself lost in this new world and instead of trying to find a way home, decides to make the most of it. Hell. Who can say they've fought to the death with swords or arrows. But is he really who he says he is? For now Rated T, May change to M if violence and other scenes seem appropriate.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Alright audience, this is more just a prologue. I wanted to show the character before I go into too many adventures and trust me, there'll be plenty. Ok, I'm off to start writing more. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: Bethesda are owners of Skyrim and all its characters, any depiction of them in this fiction will have words derived from their product and my own invention. I only own three characters and they are: Jarek Only-Son, Léna Kallaish and Kagaroth 'The Hacker' Dark-Born.**

Chapter 1 - Two Deaths in a Day

 _It is too late for this shit,_ my foot stamping on the accelerator in response to my frustration. The car shudders and hesitates before lurching forward, exhaust fumes billowing behind. I look to the mirror and sigh in irritation. _Piece of shit!_ My thoughts screaming as the blue cloud lazily rises behind the car.

Once back in the workshop I slam the door. Silently fuming, I organise my tools for the job. "So what's the verdict Jimmy?" My foreman calls, his thick accent with a hint of… _was that amusement?_

Not trusting the words that would spill from my tongue, I thrust my fist in the air and make a gesture towards the superior voice. The silence that follows is a small relief as I begin to remove the upper components to the engine.

"Just has to be a Friday!" I yell, wrapping a rag around my bleeding knuckles. Looking at where my hand had slipped, I pour thinners onto the rag. I hiss in pain as the solvent soaks through to my fresh cuts. "At least they'll be clean," I grumble to myself, picking up a spanner and attacking the engine once more.

I let the bonnet fall onto its latch, a satisfying clunk echoes through the now empty workshop, long shadows streaking the floor from the setting sun. "George!" I see my foreman groggily rise from the desk in his office. Turning the ignition I roll my eyes "typical," I drive towards the front, rolling down the window as I wait for George to waddle the small distance from his office. "I'll be back in five minutes" I assure him, "road test." He nods in response, understanding my thinning patience.

I drive onto the highway and wait for a break in the traffic. Seeing my chance, I open the throttle. "That's more like it!" I cheer, the engine growling with no hint of a shudder and the car increasing in speed. A smile breaking across my lips as I look in the mirror, _not even a wisp of blue._

My frustrations ebb away as I continue the road test. "Well, the worst is over now," I pat the dash of the car, satisfied with my handiwork.

At that moment, something grabs my attention. I've never been one for superstition but I've learnt to trust my instincts. Then I see it. From the corner of my eye, the truck grows in size as the distance between me and it dwindles in mere seconds.

"Christ!" The impact shatters the glass as the car lurks sideways and begins to roll.

Up, down, up, down. My limbs flailing like a rag doll would, slivers of glass cut my arms and face as I'm knocked from floor to ceiling.

As quickly as it had started, it stops. The ringing in my ears needed to stop, I need to think. I can feel wetness on my forehead. I lift a hand to clear the loose strands of my hair that now cling to my face. Blood drips from my fingers, more than there should be from a few glass cuts.

My sight begins to blur and the pain slowly subsides from the broken and battered parts of my body. _I_ _'_ _m dying._ The thought taking form and sinking in to my failing heart.

I don't know why I think this situation funny but my lips broaden to a gleaming grin. "Never doing overtime again," I croak, my eyelids flutter and close and I know no more.

 _Cold. Why am I cold?_ I hug my chest, hands chafing my shoulders for any heat they may give. My eyes snap open. White, all I see is white. _Am I in heaven?_ I process the thought, touching the soft snow with my cheek then abruptly lunging to my feet. _Cold._

Pine trees loom from above me, thick branches full of needles rustling in the wind. I crunch through the snow, more amazed than lost. "Where the hell am I?" I ponder, circling the area. My flannelette soaked through, I slowly undid the garment and wrapped the sleaves around my waist. I began to feel like myself again. Relishing the cold, bare chest prickling with the breeze, I headed to what I thought as south. The sun gilded behind white clouds didn't help my direction in the utmost.

Trudging through the snow, I found nothing. No sign of life, not even a hare. All that surrounded me were these dark and foreboding branches of pine and the cold snow beneath my boots. "I always said Hell had frozen over" I muttered to myself, shivering as a wet branch scraped my bare back.

Then I heard it. My instinct peaked with caution at the noise. Slowly, I turned to face the coming threat that had growled at me. Among the trees, no more than a chains length away, a great white wolf stared at me. Its dark eyes focused on me, teeth glinting in the sunlight.

"Oh shit" I stiffened against the nearest tree, waiting for what the beast would do. It reared its head and made an awful almost sorrowful howl. I didn't wait. That was my only chance and I took it. I ran, through trees and brush, not caring for the cold or damp. I didn't shiver, I didn't stop. There was no way I was stopping if that creature was following me.

I kept my pace hoping to lose the beast. Panting as I ran, _Jesus I gotta quit smoking,_ the familiar touch of phlegm at the back of my throat. I heard the foot falls behind me, I didn't look, there was no time to look. I had to run, I had to escape. I ran headlong through the clearing of trees and abruptly stopped.

Looking left then right then back up to the cliff face, "trapped like a rat," I gasped, wrenching over onto my knees. A low growl woke me from my contemplation, snapping my head to look at the snarling wolf padding towards me. I glanced to my side directions again, hoping for some sign of escape, to no avail.

The wolf stood before me, baring its wicked fangs and letting out another guttural snarl. For that instant I didn't move. I knew my options, die lying down or die fighting. I lifted my clenched fists and stared at the beast.

"Well big boy, you wanna play?" I sighed, edging my footing for what was to come. "Then let's go" I motioned towards the wolf. "Come at me you overgrown mutt!"

The white wolf didn't hesitate at the invitation. Sharp claws and gnashing teeth closed their distance towards me. Patiently I waited, knowing I had one chance. As the enormous beast lunged, I pivoted on my back foot, letting my right swing with momentum. I felt the connection and followed through with my kick, letting out the breath I'd been holding as I stamped back to the snow.

The wolf yelped as it hit the cliff side but I wasn't done. I charged the limping creature, barrelling into it with all I could muster. Landing on its back and me atop, I began to throw punches, aiming at its snout while it flailed, paws desperately trying to rid me from my position.

I didn't think, I just kept pounding the beast. It lurked sideways and I was thrown from my target. Snapping my head to where I once was, the wolf had gained its footing and pounced on me. I stuck out my arm in defence only to have it bitten by my foe. I cried in pain underneath the wolf, flailing in my attempt to find any ground.

I felt it then. My fingers curled around the jagged edges, ripping it from the ground. I pulled my left arm closer, the wolf still hanging on to my bloodied forearm. "Go to hell bitch" I hissed with fury, swinging my free arm with the rock I'd found into the wolf's skull. It sagged sideways, but I wasn't done. I hit it again and again. Every ounce of my fatigue had gone, I wanted blood and I was getting it.

I pushed off the ground, a great sigh of relief filling every muscle. I had done it. The wolf lay dead at my feet, its maw shattered and tongue lolling obscenely. _Keep moving,_ it wasn't my voice but I knew from my own mind I had to move.

Ripping my flannelette, I bandaged my arm. The pain was unbearable but I could not halt on the matter. _I shouldn_ _'_ _t feel pain, I_ _'_ _m dead._ The thought slowly crossed my mind, _what the hell is going on?_ I looked at my forearm again, feeling unease as the pain only one of the living could feel.

Flakes of white drift with the slight breeze, some catching into my long, mattered hair. Tucking loose strands behind my ear, I continue my trek, not the faintest clue of where I was heading or even where I was.

I studied the scenery, taking in the clear, brilliantly white snow. The smell of pine, the chirping unseen birds amongst the trees. _This is too real,_ I look down at my injured arm, the ripped flannelette stained dark red from my own blood. "Too real to be dead."

I wandered aimlessly, pondering my predicament. If I wasn't dead then I needed help. Food and fresh water became strong priorities, my stomach growling to emphasise the point. I needed a doctor. My injured arm would be infected if not already and I had no pleasure at the thought of it being removed. "Where the hell am I gonna find a doctor on a bloody snow covered mountain?"

The day grew long, orange streaks filled the sky from the setting sun giving new life and exuberant colours to the white landscape. I would have thought it beautiful if not for my growing hunger. I could almost feel my stomach eating away from the inside out.

"…into the cart" a gruff voice ordered in the distance.

 _Voices?_ My head snapped up. _Human voices._ Tired and hungry, I half ran half stumbled towards these sounds of my salvation.

Bursting through the trees, I found my self on a stone packed road and ahead the cart that the heavenly voice had spoken of. _A wooden cart?_

Men were being pushed aboard, my elation quickly changing to despair. Their hands were bound and one of them gagged. "Not good," I murmured, stepping back slowly.

"Hey you, stop." A man on horseback had seen me.

 _Run._ A whisper in my head but my feet disobeyed. The man urged the horse towards me. He wore armour like out of a medieval fairytale. It was almost comical if not for the blood spattered sword on his belt. _Move!_ The whisper had commanded and this time my whole body complied.

I ran through the trees, not daring to look back. My thick boots leaving divots in the snow. _The graces of keeping warm I s'pose._

I could here galloping hooves behind me. "I said stop," the man commanded and something hit me in the back of the head. Something hard, metallic and almost sharp.

My knees touched the ground and my face buried itself into the snow. I could see only black. _Again?_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - **Belief is Hard to Come by**

I rocked back and forth. A motion I was quite familiar with from my time aboard ships. This was different, it was jolting and not one bit as smooth as the rolling waves. My eyes snapped open at another jolt.

My hands were bound with rope, the cords chafing at my wrists. _Not dead again,_ I thought observing my surroundings. I was sitting in a wooden cart, three men and a woman as my company. All were bound and one gagged.

"Hey you, you're finally awake," one of the men had spoken to me. I looked him over. His blonde hair was shorter than mine though hung down to his chin, a braid roughly done with a few strands down one side of his face.

"You were trying to cross the border right?" He continued, "walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us, and that thief and the elf over there."

 _Wait, elf?_ I looked in disbelief at the woman, seeing her sharp features and… _pointy ears?_ I shook my head, ridding the remnants of sleep from my mind.

"Damn you Stormcloaks," the thief had shuffled to look at the blonde man. "Skyrim was fine until you came along! Empire was nice and lazy." He glared at both the guard driving the cart and the Stormcloak. _Must be some kind of gang,_ I mused leaning back on the cart. "If they hadn't been looking for you I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

The elf grumbled something under her breath I couldn't make out but it sounded like an insult. The horse thief looked at both of us, an almost pleading look in his eyes. "You two, you and me - we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," the Stormcloak retorted.

The elf sniffed beside me, "even me, Nord?" She asked, a hint of venom in her tone.

"Shut up back there!" The guard yelled over his shoulder. My bound companions averted their eyes from one another and silence followed. I was thankful for that moment, so confused by the conversation. _Empire? Stormcloaks? Hammerfell?_ I rifled through the questions, _and how am I sitting next to an elf?_

It was the horse thief to break the peace first. "What's wrong with him, huh?" He gestured to the gagged man at the back of the cart.

"Watch your tongue!" The Nord snapped, "you're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

This news took the thief back a step and his eyes began to widen. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" He questioned, "you're the leader of the rebellion," he murmured. _Well that explains the gang name, at least._ I eyed the rebel leader, my hands clenching. _So this is your fault I'm stuck in this_ \- "but if they've captured you…" my thoughts broken by the thief. "Oh Gods, where are the taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going," the Nord said resigned, "but Sovngarde awaits."

I had no idea what Sovngarde was or if it was a person but I knew one thing. Stuck with a rebel leader meant death.

"No, this isn't happening," the thief babbled franticly, "this can't be happening."

I looked at him with scorn, _well at least you've figured out we're dead men, mate._

"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" the blonde Stormcloak asked in a sombre tone.

The thief looked aghast, "why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." He looked to the elf and then me. _If you only knew where my home was._ A thought thankful I could keep to myself.

"Rorikstead, I… I'm from Rorikstead." He stammered back, creases furrowing his young brow.

"…sir. The headsman is waiting," the driver called. I could feel my neck muscles tighten with that as the gates opened.

A man on horse and gleaming armour watched us pass, flanked by two others in black robes with trimmings of gold. "Good," he sighed, "let's get this over with."

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Devines, please help me." The thief prayed, looking sorrowful in his plight.

I'd had enough of him. "Oh, for the love of all that's unholy, shut up!" I demanded. "Wishing and cryin' gets you nowhere."

The thief bowed his head from my outburst but his murmured prayers did not cease.

The Nord gestured to the gleaming rider, "look at him. General Tullius, the Military Governor." He spat, "and it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves." He cursed, "I bet they had something to do with this." I could feel the bound elf shifting uncomfortably at his disdain.

"Hey, did you forget your sister in binds here?" Drawing the Stormcloak's attention to me, "she's an elf too." He sighed and looked into the village.

The elf put a hand on my shoulder, "thank you," she whispered. "for a Nord, you're a good man."

I shrugged her hand away, "doesn't help me much if we're going to lose our heads."

"This is Helgen," the Stormcloak claimed wistfully. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here." _Oh great, a love lost. In a town where you're going to be beheaded._ I thought to my self, my anger still not extinguished from his racism… _if it could be called racism._

"I wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." He reminisced. I wasn't going to stop him. We were going to die and this time, I'm sure I would die.

The cart stopped, I rolled towards the elf in the movement. My body felt stiff, sore and all together wrong. " Sorry," I claimed trying to push my self away. My arms and legs ached with the movement as if I'd done one of my old training sessions before ending up here.

"…tell them we weren't with you!" I could hear the thief plea, "this is a mistake!"

"Step toward the block when we call your name," a woman ordered, "one at a time."

I was helped from the cart by the elf woman, my bones still aching from the small effort to step down from the cart.

"Empire loves their damned lists," the Stormcloak beside me sighed.

Ulfric went first, followed by the Stormcloak the Imperials had labelled as Ralof of Riverwood.

Lokir, the horse thief was next but he wasn't going quietly and made a run for it. A sore attempt at running. Archers took him down within seconds of fleeing, his body crumpling in a heap on the cobblestones.

The captain glared towards both me and the elf. "Anyone else feel like running?" it was no more a question than a statement.

A man had just been shot dead before my eyes, of course I felt like running. I saw my options plain as day. Die quick with an axe through my neck or die painfully with an arrow in my back. I knew which option I'd choose. _Well at least it'll be entertaining for some one,_ I groaned in defeat. My neck lowered already for the incoming doom.

"Wait," the armoured man with the list spoke. "Wood elf, who are you?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"Léna Kallaish," my bound companion proclaimed, her head held high. "I live in the Rift with my brother."

The Imperial soldier looked at his list and then to me, "and you Nord?"

My heart stopped, _who was I?_ _Was I a Nord or just a simple human being from Australia?_ I had to think quickly. I was in a land I didn't know. Kings, elves, Nords. All things that didn't exist where I came from.

A whisper came to me, niggling at the back of my head. _Jarek,_ it echoed through my skull. I could see the patience thinning on the man in front of me. "J-Jarek," I stammered, breathing a sigh of relief as the man he looked to his list once more.

He looked to his superior. "Captain, they're not on the list," he gestured, "what should we do?"

The captain scoffed, "forget the list, they go to the block."

"By your orders captain, "he obliged, " I'm sorry, at least you'll die here, in your homeland. Follow the captain prisoners."

I sauntered behind the elf, taking in the soldier's words. _Home. I don't have a home._ I thought of where I came from. My friends barely spoke to me, moving on with their own lives. Getting married, having kids, buying their first house and making it a home. My work was my home, it was the only constant in my ever changing and isolated world.

A tear rolled down my cheek, _I'm going to die alone._

General Tulluis approached the rebel leader, loathing in his eyes. "Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne." His hand twitched on his sword hilt when Ulfric grunted in response. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

In the far off distance a sound echoed towards us. All the company surrounding the headsman block raised there heads. "What was that?"

The general waved the disturbance aside, "it's nothing, carry on."

"Yes General Tullius!" The captain erected herself, "give them their last rights."

Another woman stepped forward cloaked in a yellow hooded robe. The sleeves falling back from her wrists as she raised her arms. _A priest?_

"As we commend your souls…" _yep, that's a priest._ I drown out her preaching with my thoughts. I hated religion.

A Stormcloak shoved passed me, "for the love of Talos, shut up and lets get this over with." He growled kneeling at the block.

The priest glared at him, almost wanting to kill the interruption herself. "As you wish." I couldn't help to keep away my smile at that.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning." The captain kicked him down to the block and the headsman slowly raised his axe. "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?" A swish of wind and the sickening sound of neck bones being released from their counter part and the Stormcloak's head rolled to the ground. I began to dry heave at the sight. Blood spattered the block and the stench was unbearable. The elf again held me up, my crutch before my death.

"Next, the wood elf." The captain called.

Another echo, this time closer, _or was it a roar?_

"There it is again."

"I _said_ next prisoner." the captain's patience was thinning.

The soldier with the list looked at the elf beside me. "To the block prisoner," he sighed, "nice and easy."

She walked with her head held high to the headsman block and stood facing the him. There was no emotion in that look, just pure understanding. _Has she been through this before?_

Unceremoniously, Léna was set to the block and for a fleeting second, I saw her smile… _at me, why?_

The axe rose, its blood stained edge glinting in the morning sun. I was interrupted by a dark figure bursting through the clouds, a deafening roar shuddering the foundations around me.

"What in Oblivion is that?" I didn't care who had said it for I had the same question. _That's too big for a bird, so what in bloody hell is it?_

"Sentries," the captain ordered, "what do you see?"

"It's in the clouds!"

A sharp collision that felt like an earthquake came from the tower above us. I was transfixed by the colossal creature looming down at us and fear gripped my soul.

"Dragon!"

It's vast maw opened and the roar that I expected came out as a clap of thunder with a bellow that shuddered every bone in my body. A gust of wind, a force like I had never known blew my feet from under me and knocked me to the ground.

I could feel new cuts open up across my body but I couldn't help but stare at the creature. Large black wings stretched skyward, its talons ripping through the stonework of the tower. It was the embodiment of chaos and destruction, a bringer of death. My mind could not comprehend what the people had called it. _Dragons don't exist,_ I reasoned with myself but there this thing was. Biting and clawing anything in its path, flying and… _Breathing fire._

"Hey kinsman, get up!" Ralof was a few feet from me, "come on, that dragon's not going to give us another chance."

I tried to push up from the ground only to have my joints protest in stabbing agony. I cried out, trying to find any strength in my limbs merely to have them shake and give way, leaving me sprawled in the middle of the square.

A pair of hands wrenched me to my feet, I grunted as my body disagreed with the movement. "You're not dead yet, Nord." Léna whispered, pushing me towards the open wooden door Ralof held.

We ran as quickly as my legs would allow. I lost my footing on a loose paving and tumbled through the doorway. I lay there, the cold stone felt nice. Aching joints numbed and I could feel sleep taking over me.

Léna hefted me onto a bench, my groans of discomfort ignored as she walked away to listen to Ralof and Ulfric.

The building trembled around us and a roar followed. "We need to move, now!" I couldn't tell who had ordered it, I was weary and my body pained beyond a state I was used to.

I hissed as Léna tugged at my injured arm. "Time to move," she urged, pushing me to my feet and towards the winding stairs leading up through the building. _Just let me die this time!_

"Get back!" Ralof pulled us behind him as bricks exploded. The dragon let out a stream of fire blackening everything it touched, it let out another ear shattering roar and flew off to cause more destruction through the village. Ralof peered over the jagged ledge. "See the keep on the other side," he pointed, "jump through the roof and we'll meet you there."

I stepped forward and looked down, seeing what Ralof was on about. _Straw roof, well at least he's accurate about 'jumping through.'_

"You ready?" Léna looked at me, her sapphire eyes burning with determination. "On three," she prepared.

I had already stepped back, _just like any other parkour stunt,_ then launched myself forward, joints jolting with pain. "Three!"

We plummeted from the crumbling tower, our landing cushioned as the roof collapsed beneath. I rolled with momentum trying to save as much pain from my already aching body, cursing my hands were still tied when I almost tumbled over again. Léna was right behind, her movements fluid and almost cat like.

We ran headlong back into the fray, the dragon snapped at a boy's heels then roasted one of the village soldiers who had gotten too close. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, _almost smells like bacon,_ my stomach growled at the thought.

"You two still alive," it was the soldier that had read the names from the list. "Stick with me if you want to stay that way."

Through the burning streets we ran. Dodging the falling remnants of building structures and the constant billowing of fire from the rampaging dragon. Léna stayed close to me the entire way, keeping me upright whenever I lost my footing and began to fall.

Coming into an opening, I saw men firing arrows at the flying beast and others throwing fire from their hands. I stood in shock and disbelief. _This is impossible, magic isn't real._

"Ralof you traitor, out of my way!" I saw Ralof running towards us, a crude axe in his hand.

"We're escaping Hadvar, and there's nothing you can do to stop us this time."

Hadvar looked ready to challenge that statement until the dragon swooped down, taking one of the soldiers and dropping them from a massive height. "Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." He left us in that clearing, running into a nearby tower.

Léna once more pushed me forward. "Come on Nord, we're not out of this yet."

"Into the keep, let's go!" Ralof, again holding the door for our salvation.

I grunted away the pain and sprinted for the entry. I wasn't going to let my body fail me while I still held breath in my lungs. Through the doorway and on to paved stone my boots stomped and the sound echoed back. I hit the wall with sudden relief, slipping down to my knees to recover.

Léna ran through followed by Ralof and the final slam of the heavy oak door. They both collapsed next to me, ash and sweat smearing their faces. "Too many close calls today," I gasped. "I should already be dead."

Ralof leant up and inspected the corpse that I had only just seen next me. I rolled in disgust. I was still not used to seeing fresh dead bodies. "I'll see you in Sovngarde, brother."

The elf began examining me, poking and prodding my knees and elbows. "Ow, stop that will ya." I swiped at her, "I've already died twice, isn't that enough to know I'm in pain?

She drew her bound hands away, observing my injured arm, the flannelette caked with my dried blood. "What attacked you?" She asked, almost… _Concerned?_

I turned away and shielded my arm from her view. "Wolf attack, just after I woke up here."

Ralof walked over then and cut my binds, "cut the elf's while you're at it and get that armour on," he motioned to the dead body beside us, "he won't be needing it anymore."

I cut her bonds and pocketed the knife, then sat back from exhaustion. "Go," I waved, "you deserve to escape."

Léna rubbed her wrists and stared dead at me, her eyes had a sparkle I had never seen. "I'm not leaving you behind."

It sounded final, I nodded in defeat. She turned her back to me and stripped the armour from the dead Stormcloak as well as the fur boots. I hadn't noticed Léna was only in a tattered shift until she was donning the armour. I felt embarrassed at that and averted my gaze when my thoughts began to wander.

I distracted myself by watching Ralof trying to open the gate on my left. He rammed it in frustration but the hinges remained silent. "We can't open it from our side."

"Then we find another way out," Léna declared, strapping an axe to her hips.

My ears pricked, I could hear footsteps down the hall. "Both of you, hide now." I pushed myself up and limped to the gate.

The Stormcloak's eyes widened, "Imperials," he alarmed and quickly made his way to the wall beside the gate so as not to be seen through it.

Léna hid on the other side then gawked incredulous at me, "what are you doing?" She whispered sharply, "Hide!"

A small hint of a smile played across my lips, "trust me."

I rapped my fist against the iron bars and yell out, "help, someone open the gate, there's a dragon out there!"

The footsteps quicken their pace and I was met by two Imperial soldiers, One I thought seemed familiar. "Thank the… Divines you two showed up." I prayed, hoping my sincerity was believable. "I would've been dead otherwise."

I guessed my appearance was quite battered and broken from the disgusted gaze the superior of the two soldiers gave me. "You're that prisoner who wasn't on the list, get this gate open. " she ordered her second.

It dawned on me, _and you're the captain from the execution._ "Thank you captain, with your help I might survive this." I could feel the dagger pressing at my calf, the hilt barely visible in my deep pocket.

Hinges screamed in protest as the gate swung open. I stepped back allowing the soldiers to enter and watched carefully for the drawing of weapons. "There was a womer with you, where is she?" The captain barked at me.

 _What the bloody hell is a womer?_ "You mean the elf?" I questioned then noticed Léna behind the soldier franticly nodding her head. "Ah, she's long gone. Saw how injured I was and split, left me behind to rot, the little shit." I spat the last words, keeping the focus of both the soldiers on me.

"For Skyrim!" Ralof bellowed, pouncing on the second soldier. In bewilderment the Imperial faltered back, knocking me to the ground.

"Jarek," I could hear Léna then the clashing of steel.

I shook my head to rid the dizziness. I saw Ralof gaining ground but Léna was losing. The captain had her pinned against the wall, her axe blocking the relentless strikes meant for her throat. I pulled the knife from my pocket and weighed it in my hand while I focused on the two women fighting. _Only one shot,_ I flipped the knife over, holding it by the blade.

"Oi bitch," the captain stopped and glanced at me for a moment, "catch."

End over end, the dagger flew from my finger tips. A split second of terror crossed her face and then she slumped to the ground. The blade embedded between the captain's eyes, a trickle of ruby red sliding down her nose.

I breathe a sigh of relief and fall back to the wall behind me. _I've just killed,_ the thought sends a shiver down my spine. _Not animal, I have just killed another human._

Léna runs to my side, "are you alright?" She asks lifting me up.

I grunt in response, my arms and legs shuddering as she moves me.

"We need to keep moving," Ralof calls and we both fumble through the gate after him.

For hours or minutes, I couldn't tell, we trudged along. Dodging cave ins and Imperials for a sweeter exit until we found a tunnel that looked promising.

"I'll go down first," I proclaimed. Léna about to argue but I held up my hand. "Anyone down there won't be expecting an injured, half crazed lunatic." I smiled, remembering my so called nicknames from a different world.

I trudge down the steps, the knife firmly in my grasp. I hear screaming and immediately push my pained body into a run. What I see is nothing I've known in existence. Men and women shackled to the walls. A soldier at the far end , grinning as they're tortured by him, this man with wicked knives and lightning in his hand.

I couldn't stomach the sight any long. I yelled in fury and lunged at the torturer but oh, too late. He let out a fistful of electricity at me and I slammed against the back wall, convulsing as the shocks subsided.

Léna and Ralof enter shouting over my limp body, subduing the foes and freeing the tortured convicts. I continued to jerk as my muscles regained control, Léna coming to my side shortly after.

"W-What was that?" I ask shakily, trying to kneel and stop the cramping through my shoulders.

"First lightning strike?" Léna pats me on the back. _First lightning strike, he threw lightning at me!_ I nod in agreement still bewildered by what just happened.

"Any of you good with locks?" Ralof calls shaking a cage.

Still quivering I raise my hand, "yeah, a long time ago."

He hands me some rough picks and points to the cage's lock, "See if you can open it, may be things we can use."

I was at my limit of weird. Dragons, elves and magic. This was something I knew. Inserting the knife I'd taken from the captain's skull and the pick, I began to tune the lock and then stopped. "You've got to be kidding me."

Léna peered over my shoulder, "what's wrong?"

I knelt there stunned at the lock, "Nothing," I swung the cage wide, entering without hesitation.

Ralof looked over his shoulder, "the gold is yours," he proclaimed, "you opened it, your reward."

I nodded in agreement and pocketed the coins as well as the book beside the skeleton. Léna stared bewildered at me, her eyes fleeting to the lock I had just opened.

I limped out and glanced back at her, "we moving?"

She shook her head from her thought and took my arm over her shoulder. "Let's get out of here."

Ralof nodded and led on through the crumbling keep.

 _At least I'm alive this time,_ I thought as I limped down through the blackness.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ok, So I was given a question by a reviewer that is easy enough to answer but too much detail may spoil upcoming chapters, so I will be brief. The quick answer is no, Jarek is not Dragonborn and Léna is not his sister by blood. I'm sorry that's the only information I can give but mystery and suspense is an art form that I find myself as a slave to obey.**

 **This chapter is quite short, so I hope it sates the audience's appetite for a while but leaves them asking for what I have planned for both the Dragonborn and this "shadow" of a man.  
**

Chapter 3 - **Remember Shadows**

A fresh breeze caressed my clammy brow. _A way out,_ I may have been hallucinating again. The stabbing agony in my bones had me going delirious, another day, another hour and I would end it myself. It was torture and death felt so tantalizing to be free from this waking nightmare.

We had fought spiders of gigantic size, their black glistening eyes as large as my fist. Luckily the bear did not wake as we passed, Léna and Ralof could have h handled it but my failing body draped across both their shoulders was a vulnerable hindrance.

The light blinded me as Léna pulls me through the mouth of the cave. I swore I heard a roar and the pumping of colossal wings but I could not be sure. The state of my mind made it hard to distinguish false from reality.

I don't remember running. My legs felt like fire and it was hard to breathe. _Was that a walkway?_ My head tilts up as we pass under what may have been real. I needed rest, my brain was fried and my body exhausted. When we stopped I slumped to the ground, grass itching my bare back and neck.

I heard the voices around me, all melting together into muffled slurring inside my head. I paid no attention to them, sleep slowly taking over. A blackness so soothing, my senses dissipating to nothing and I was floating amidst emptiness.

* * *

" _You are not you," a disembodied voice echoes around me. I found I was standing in a desolate place, grey smoke eluding all but a few inches from around me. "You are but a shadow," the voice spoke again._

 _I'm wearing leathern armour, metal plates donned to shins, bracers and epaulets that fit so well it felt that the garments were made for me, a part of me. I trace along the runes etched into the steel, so familiar but a memory I have never known. The armour is black, darker than a covered night devoid of stars and light._

 _The smoke swirls and solidifies, a human figure cast in pure shadow now stands before me. I instinctively unsheathe the weapon strapped to my hip. A short handled axe, the weight distributed evenly so as the head is balanced against the full length of the shaft._

 _The shadow cocks its head and I feel the axe disappear, disintegrating into sand and slipping through my fingers. "You cannot even grasp your own weapons," the shadow's monotonous voice unnerving and filled with disapproval._

 _I make ready for a fight. "Who are you?" I command, wishing I could see the face beyond the black concealing hood._

 _It turns from me and glides through the smoke. "Find who you are," the shadow whispers. "Remember."_

 _I run after the apparition, a slow and cumbersome movement as if wading through water. "Wait!" I plead, "what do you want?" My run slowing to a walk. "Why am I here?"_

" _Remember." The whisper echoing from everywhere and nowhere, even the smoke shimmering with the reverberation._

* * *

I wake with a start, gasping in the fresh air and covered in sweat. "A dream," I pant, wiping my brow, "just a dream."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I do apologize for my lack of updating. This chapter took longer than expected with going into the unknown and away from the Game's storyline. I do hope that it is sufficient to satisfy those that want a change from the ever repeatable events that I am sure we all have completed numerous times.**

 **Eventually, I hope to compose the song that I have written in this chapter. I'll keep you all updated if I ever get around to doing it.**

Chapter 4 - **Constant Uncertainty**

"You're as strong as a mammoth," Gerdur praised as I threw another log for the saw mill. "I can see why Ralof wants you to join the Stormcloaks, no man could stand against you."

I gave a hearty laugh as I leant on the dwindling wood pile. "Let's not go that far," I muse, "there's a big difference to throwing logs and fighting with a sword."

It had been a week since I had woken up in Gerdur and Hod's garden. Their kindness towards me was immeasurable. Apparently my heroics in Helgen from Ralof's account were worthy enough to let me stay and eat from their table. That was a debt I couldn't let slide, I told them I would work for my keep and insisted on the matter until they both agreed.

I was informed Léna had gone to Whiterun to warn of the dragon attack and hopefully bring back soldiers to fend off the beasts. I would wait for her return. I wanted to thank her, not just for getting me out of Helgen but also from what Gerdur had told me. She had saved me from a disease then healed me with her own magic. I could still see the scars of the wolf attack but that's all they were, scars. No infection, no amputation, just raised teeth marks along my forearm.

Gerdur handed me a bladder of wine and I took it willingly, the fruit was still strong and made it so much sweeter after a hard days labour. "Take this too," she handed me a large satchel that jingled with gold coins. "You've more than earned you're keep here and it wouldn't feel right if I kept all the earnings from the Jarl."

I weighed the bag in my hands, contemplating the amount I had received. "You sure?" I asked, "there's more here than what Faendal gets.

Gerdur scoffed at that, "that elf only works when he can't make anything from his pelts." She pushed my hands back, "you've hunted and worked for us, that's more than I hoped for, take it."

I thanked her over and over until she shooed me off. I was so elated with my money I strutted down the main road past Alvor's forge, the smithy's hammer ringing like a metronome and my feet stamping in time to the rhythm. Engrossed with my thoughts I didn't see the young Nord girl running towards me. The wind knocked from my lungs as she charged into me, arms locked around my middle. "Jarek!" Her chirpy voice filled with excitement.

"Careful young lady," I gasped, staggering to regain composure. "You might hurt your self running in to people like that."

She giggled happily taking me by the hand, "are you going to the forge to help Papa?"

A smile played across my lips, _no rest for the wicked._ "Well, why not?" I shrugged, letting the girl drag me towards the warming furnace and growing peal of hammer on anvil. "The sun is still high and I could always use another lesson from my astound teacher." I winked at her, drawing another giggle from the young Nord.

I stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, relishing the force from my arms as I moulded steel into crafts of war. I loved this work, my muscles flexing as hammer made contact to metal. Hard labour mixed with creation, almost an art form in my eyes. Dorthe, the young girl sitting on her father's knee, bouncing and swaying as my hammering rang it's long then staccato tolls. An old habit came back to me as I continued my procession, the steel sounded its rhythm and my foot began to tap between the clustered strokes, music.

 _Oh come all ye willing and give me your ears_

 _There is a tale that will pass through the years_

 _A land of beauty, a land of snow_

 _A land I've found that none will know_

 _I've travelled through forests and rivers abound_

 _Through planes of grass and mountains around_

 _A land of beauty, a land of snow_

 _A land I've found that none will know_

 _Take me on ventures and open my eyes_

 _Show me a world that I can't deny_

 _A land of beauty, a land of snow_

 _A land I've found that none will know_

 _Through myth and knowledge the fates are for_

 _Taken on sunder to their mighty roar_

 _A land of beauty, a land of snow_

 _A land I've found that none will know_

My song doused as the blade hissed in the basin. Dorthe clapped adoringly, snapping Alvor from his own trance. "Again, again!" She squealed in delight, "sing another one."

I laughed and tousled the young Nord's hair, "maybe another time, its gotten late." I look up to the darkening sky, the two moons still unnerving me that I was not on earth anymore.

Alvor clasped me on the shoulder, his fingers cold on my sweat covered skin. "You sing better than that poor excuse of a bard, maybe you should take his place at the Sleeping Giant's." He contemplated, stroking his auburn goatee. "Where'd you learn such a song?" He inquired, "oldest we know of is 'The Tale Tongues' and that hasn't been sung since Tiber Septim's time."

I shrugged in response, "it just came to me, more of my own coming to Skyrim through new eyes." I could not tell them where I was from, none would believe the technical marvels, let alone how I got here.

I bade Alvor goodbye and was forced into another hug from Dorthe confirming I'd be back on the morrow. I needed to eat and a beer wouldn't have been bad either, so I entered the only tavern in the village. The 'Sleeping Giant' inn was tranquil to say the least. A handful of patrons and the so called bard as they referred to him. Sven sat nursing an ale, a scowl upon his unblemished brow.

I took a drink and sat next to the brooding Nord. "What's got you in a knot Sven?" I asked cheerfully, "surely you're singing isn't that bad?" Hoping to bait him from his sombre mood.

"Make your jests Jarek," he scoffed, "a brute that hauls logs and bangs steel wouldn't know the first thing about music."

 _Gotchya!_ I grinned wickedly, fighting the temptation to just rip his lute from him. "Do I sense a challenge or are you too hung up on Camilla and Faendal?" I prodded his ego. After our little scuffle a night ago, Sven had written no more notes and his bruised face were the only signs of my defiance from being a damned messenger.

He glowered further into his cup and finished the remaining dregs. Turning to me, his eyes narrowed and breath stank of drink. He stood abruptly to his feet, cradling his head and swaying very unevenly. "I… I don't need to take this from you, " he slurred, "I trained at the 'Bard's College' and proved myself as a graduate." A proclamation as he puffed out his chest.

I sigh and take him by the shoulder, "you've had enough Sven, go home." I didn't want another brawl here, Delphine the innkeeper had made that quite clear.

He stumbled out the door with more muttering, scorn riddled all over his face as he looked at me. I crossed my arms and stare down at him. "Beat it, before I give you another hiding that your mother has to nurse you for." I barked.

I watched him quickly retreat back to his home, slamming the door behind him. _That's right, let mummy know that the big brute tossed out a drunk._ I stayed there a moment watching the veranda, something didn't feel right. It was never this quiet outside a pub.

I was bumped by a humanoid figure, taken aback I glared at the new entrant. "So sorry stranger, I didn't see you." His hiss on every 'S' irritated me.

"What do you want?" I declared, readying myself in defence.

The hooded figure blanched away and raised his arms in surrender, "I only want a drink from the long road," his voice coming like a rasp. "I do not mean to offend."

I grunted in response and traipsed back into the warmth A silence fell as I entered, all eyes upon me as if I would attack any patron within arms reach. From the wooden bench I snatched my tankard and downed the mead, a loud exhale escaped me as I placed the cup and a few drakes in front of Orgnar.

He scrutinized me as the mead was poured. "If you're wondering about Sven, " I said loud enough for all the eyes behind me to hear. "I didn't lay a finger on him."

"Good," I jumped at the response, spinning to find the small pub owner behind me. "Otherwise I'd run you out of town," A scowl marked into the woman's hard face.

"Christ almighty Delphine!" I held my hand against my chest and tried to regain composure. "Don't sneak up on me like that." Her eyes sharpened even more so, scrutinizing my every movement. _If looks could kill,_ I mused, taking a swig from my awaiting mead.

I stayed close to the fire, warming my still bare upper body from the night's growing chill. The figure I had had a confrontation with entered slowly after, hesitant and ever watchful. His hood still drawn and cloak draped to the floor, not uncommon for strangers passing through Riverwood but this one didn't sit right. _What are you hiding?_

I glanced at him occasionally between sips of my drink, pondering whether to approach him again. He sat in the darkest corner of the inn, melding into the shadows, barely moving as patrons whisked here and there around him.

Seeing my mug empty, I contemplated I was just being paranoid. Too much alcohol does that to a man. I handed Orgnar the tankard and bade all the customers good night, watching the stranger as he shifted to see me leave. My eyes narrowed out of reflex, a burning sensation to charge and throttle his neck came and passed. _Not my problem,_ I sniffed and found my way back into the evening light and the welcoming and sobering cold.

I laid my head onto the make shift pillow. Staring up at the roof of Gerdur's saw mill, wanting to sleep but not daring for the nightmares that had plagued me since coming to Riverwood. Wading through smoke, chasing what I could not see and that voice. Maddening but yet, so familiar. _What am I supposed to remember? How can I find if I don't know what I'm searching for?_ Questions I could not utter to a soul, knowing none would have an answer but a judgement of my sanity. Eyelids heavy, I sigh in my attempt to restrain the coming stillness of sleep. The peaceful darkness enveloping me.

* * *

 _I am standing at the edge of a lake. Bodies scatter the surface, bellies bloated from decomposing. I try to turn but I cannot take my eyes from the horrid sight. All of them women, no men or children. A corpse drifting towards me makes me shudder from my core. A knife protrudes from her chest, intricately made with markings of unknown design to me._

 _I then see the unmistakable shadow of my dreams. Again, it cocks its head and stretches it's arms wide as if to embrace the very essence of our surroundings. "You were here but you were not, you saw but you do not see." Its voice chilling my very fabric of being._

 _I begin to wade out to the apparition. "Why do you speak in riddles?" I demand looking at the dead women around me. "Did I kill these people?" I ask, a hint of hysteria lacing my tone._

 _The shadow remarks on my questioning, brooding it replies. "Indirectly."_

 _Vanishing, I am left standing alone. The bodies drifting by me, women I should know but can't remember. People I've killed but not by my hand. I crouch to the water surface, tearing at my face as I try to grasp at memories I no longer have. "WHO AM I?!"_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I never thought about this until now so, I need to admit to all readers that this is my first ever Fanfiction. That does not mean lay off the flack or keep everything nice and dandy. Any feedback is well appreciated and I will try to address the errors, plot holes or just plain shite that viewers notify me of. Cheers all and hope you are enjoying what goes on inside my head. XD**

Chapter 5 - **Hunt**

I amble through the trees, bow in hand as I scan the surrounds. _He's around here somewhere,_ observing the prints and broken branches. Morning just beginning to lighten the predawn sky, mist still in its full and dew falling from the canopy above. All is silent in these forests. Peaceful and at rest, untouched by human hands, nature at its finest. I was the intruder.

Making my way back to the river, I found my target. Crouching and inching forward I knocked an arrow to my bow, the pheasants I had cooked paying me a second time with their feathers. Mud claimed my bare feet, letting them sink and succumb to the coagulating, coolness of the earth. It felt so good to be back in the forests again. Nothing like the dry, red dust and scorching sands of back home. Hopping from foot to foot to find the shady spots with rifle in hand, being aware of the deadly spiders that lurked in their small burrows- _focus Jimmy._ I shook my head to be rid of the memory, _you're here to hunt._

I took aim, breathing out and letting my shoulders relax. The string touched my lips and halted for the perfect strike, my eyes narrowing to my targets heart. The deer perused the grass, it's ears still not twitching from my presence. A buck of all things, a big score for its meat and hide. I shuffle closer, the foliage still giving me camouflage from the beast.

I let loose my arrow, it singing through the air. It missed. Birds chirped and squawked, the deer ran head long into the trees before I could notch another arrow. _Shit._ I turned to watch what had spooked the animals. It was quick, humanoid and gold glinted from under its arm. "Cheers mate!" I yell out, "ignorant prick." My annoyance sated slightly as the human looks ba- _that aint human._

I sauntered into town, the morning meandering on as the folk began their routines. I left the bow and quiver of arrows with Hod, he was bewildered I had not come back with any game, only empathizing when I had told him of my short comings from the hunt. Taking the axe lying dormant against the woodpile I chopped the small logs fervently. I didn't want to think or ponder, my mind was a chaotic thing, questioning all with no reprieve of answers. The work in front of me gave me my relief, my escape. Repetitive motions that exerted my force and frustration, every splitting log a fragment of anger splintering away from my person.

"That axe needs sharpening," Gerdur observed.

I sat back and admired the dulled wedge, _what can be broken can be renewed, maintain and preserve._ My thoughts taking me back to past times, servicing cars and giving them an extended life. This axe was no different. "It does," I mulled twisting the shaft through my hands. "Nothing an oil stone can't fix," the head burying deep into the stump I had used as a platform.

Gerdur tossed a bag of gold to me, "could you go and fetch a few?" Her demeanour changing as her eyes perceive my face, sweat dripping in pools between my feet. "You've been working too hard, a break will help." I nodded, keeping the turmoil built up within. I couldn't tell her what I was feeling, dreams and shadows didn't bode well with Nords I had found.

Hinges creaked as the door opened, the sound only partial to the two siblings squabbling over the counter. I payed them no mind, focussing on the shelves of supplies, weapons and armour. Multitudes of steel, leathers and fur, the coming winter was beginning to show with the increased stock.

"… No chasing thieves and no adventures!" I tilted my head to look at the pair. Lucan Valerius stood with his arms crossed, his constant scowl more predominant as he tried to stare down his sister.

"So, what?" Camilla's haughty tone always intrigued me when she spoke to her brother. Disapproval and hints of domination, _I hope you're faring better Faendal._ "We just let that scaly bastard go after stealing from us?" My neck almost broke from looking so fast, eyes wide in realisation.

Lucan faltered under his younger sister's gaze, "we don't even know if he was the one who stole it."

Her laughter was sharp and short lived, eyes showing the true irritation of Lucan's avoidance to conflict. "No one else in town left so quickly after one night, or are you thinking it could have been Jarek?" Camilla's index finger pointed straight at me. _Shit woman, don't bring me into this!_

Lucan stammered as I brought the oil stones and a bundle of leathern cords onto the counter. "Uh… I hope you don't think we're accusing you of stealing?" He quivered as I gave him coin for the goods.

I smiled evasively, "the stranger from last night," my voice with a hint of menace. " I didn't catch his face, he wasn't human?"

"Argonian," Camilla stepped to my side, her opened presence towards me much more welcoming than her prior conversation.

I had heard and read briefly on the lizard folk from Black Marsh. Scaled humanoids that worshipped the Hist, _whatever that was._ I turned back to Lucan, taking in his apprehensive features and being mindful of Gerdur's words, _"no man could stand against you."_ I softened my expression and enlightened both siblings on my predawn events, I then divulged as to the Argonian carrying gold.

Camilla jumped to me first, grasping my arm with her dainty fingers. "That's it!" She exclaimed, "the dragon claw!" Glaring at her brother in triumph. "Where was he heading?"

I fleeted a look at her older brother, defeat written all over his face, downcast and uncomfortable. "East from the south road, picked up pace after seeing me," I grumbled, "Would need a horse to catch up to him then you'd need to find him." I shrugged.

Lucan's determination came back with a fluster of waving hands, "you see?" He gestured towards me, "it's already long gone, in Riften and pawned off by now."

Camilla shook her head, her brows furrowing ever deeper. The stern look she gave me would have made Delphine look harmless at that moment. "Take me there."

I wish I had a camera or a mirror at that moment. Lucan's face showed pure fear and mine of just as much humour. "No!" Lucan barked. "I will not have you gallivanting across the countryside."

I admired his graceful façade of bravado, but still I intervened for peace between them. "I'll bring it back," I said, waiting for one to acknowledge I had said anything. A silent match of death glares waged between them, though I thought it amusing I needed their attention. I slammed my fist in to the counter, a large crack forming along the wood grain, "I said I'll bring it back!"

My outburst stunned both of them, first looking to where my fist had left an imprint in the wood and then to me, fear riddling their faces as I glared at the siblings. "I'll need a map," I declared, "I've never been to Riften."

Camilla was the first to come out of her stupor, shaking her head and then busying herself in a draw behind the counter. "Of course," she said, pleasure lacing her tone. Laying the map in front of me she began to point out landmarks for the journey I would take. "Ivarstead will be a good place to stock up once through the valley," pointing to a dot on the southern end of the map.

"Where's Riften?" I gazed over the map not even able to place where the hell I was.

She pointed over to the far south eastern area of the map to what looked like a city marker. "Here, about a days travel on foot." Her features changed as she saw my expression. "We can't afford a horse," her eyes down cast with embarrassment.

I studied the map, taking in the topography from the routes travelled. Mountains and valleys, rivers and forests, it was well drawn from the detail put in to the thin leathern hide. "Why would a thief travel so far for a stolen piece of gold?" Raising my head to observe the siblings.

Lucan fumbled for an answer, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. "It's home to all thieves," Camilla rolled her eyes, "they have what you would call a guild in Riften, a base of operations."

I nodded, rolled up the map and handed over a handful of gold from my own pouch. "I'll be on my way this afternoon"

* * *

I stepped underneath the southern walkway, contemplating when I arrived how this was the first thing I saw, an hallucination when my mind was delirious from pain and disease. My arm flexed, the teeth marks stretching across supple, untanned skin, _the dead don't dream._ I heaved a sigh and took the first step of many towards Riften, the unknown before me but this time I was prepared.

Gerdur had gifted me with the bow I had used on my hunts and a pack of ample food. She was unhappy to see me go but concealed those emotions in front of her husband. A clasp on the shoulder, a sigh and then disappeared back to her mill. Hod had given me a bladder of 'Firebrand' wine, _"for the snow,"_ he had said. I took a swig as good fortune before him, grinning as I told him my tradition of being offered a drink.

"Jarek!" As I turned, Dorthe thudded into my stomach, tears trickling down her petite face. "P-p-please don't go," she blubbered, burying her face into my new tunic.

I knelt before her and cradled her chin beneath my forefinger, "I will come back, little one," I crooned, wiping salted streaks. "Once I find this thief and take back what doesn't belong to him."

Shifting her feet and still looking at the ground she mumbled, "b-but what if y-you d-don't?"

I sighed watching Alvor approach us. Lifting her head even higher until her eyes met mine. Green like the sea, deep and clear with that wild and unforseen rage that would claim so many hearts of men, _certainly in her later years, no doubt._ "I always come back," I smiled.

"Of course you will," Alvor approached, resting a hand on his daughter. "Though you're small, you are still a Nord." He laughed, "born from battles and ice, we survive."

I nodded in agreement, realizing how short I was compared to him, at least a foot or more. Dorthe sniffled silently, hanging her head once more as I stood to clasp her father's arm. "Thank you Alvor, your teachings, the forge, the money… well… everything," I shrugged, "Thank you."

He shook his head and chuckled. Releasing my arm, he brought forth leathers he'd been cradling under his arm and something wrapped in cloth. "The roads are becoming dangerous," he said as he handed the items to me.

I unwrapped the cloth, discovering an axe I had made only a few days ago. The shaft elongated like the one from my dream and the head, slick and light. I had angled the blade edge towards the shaft, crafting it perfect for throwing. "No," I thrust the axe out towards him, "this is your livelihood, I can't take it."

Again, he chuckled. Folding his arms and boring his eyes into mine. "You can give it back when you come back." _Shit, used my own words against me. Well played smart arse._

They left soon after, Dorthe beginning to cry loudly, rubbing her eyes as the tears ran freely. I donned the leathers, tightening the straps and feeling them meld to my body, _light and comfortable,_ I thought. I turned to take one last look at Riverwood. The sun was setting, golden rays dancing over thatched roofs and glistening on the flowing stream. I saw the decrepit ruins on the mountain looming above it all but it only added to the effect of the scenery of the village. "Now that is beauty," I whispered. My last words and thoughts now passed, I turned and began my trek towards the wilderness and beyond it all, Riften.

* * *

I smelt it before I saw the walls. Decaying flesh, smoke and death. I picked up pace, knowing I would find the place where all this insanity had started. Gates barred my path, Imperial soldiers had been stripped bare and impaled on stakes either side. _Dragon's don't inflict fear with rotting death, they are fear._ I pondered and poked one of the bodies. It wasn't fresh, most likely dead from the dragon attack. I looked closer, investigating the stake wound and the wood itself. It had been sharpened to a point recently, the charred surface cut away with crude strikes. Blood stained its tip that could only be from the rotting corpse and the wound appeared much younger than the sword and burn marks that riddled the body.

I readied my axe remembering I should thank Alvor for his persistence I take it. With a grunt I hefted the wooden gate large enough for a child to squeeze through. Though I was no child I was small for a Nord and small for a human, I made up for my height disability with fitness and strength, _if you can't be taller, be bigger._

Slipping passed the entry, I padded across the ash. I took it all in, the fallen towers, burnt houses and the distinct remnants of human bones. There was nothing left, no life nor colour, all just shades of grey. Destruction in its most complete form, annihilation. I shuddered as the memories came flooding back. Agonised screams of unseen faces ghosted from the debris, phantom fires consuming entire buildings and the dragon, that monstrous roar, black wings reaching to the sky and those red, intelligent eyes.

"How did I survive?" I whispered to ghosts knowing I would not receive an answer.

"Who goes there?" A woman's voice called from on high. I glanced up at the only remaining tower. She was perched on a ledge, an arrow trained at me and string taught ready for my slightest move. _The impaled bodies!_ My mind screamed, _right, shit._

Dodging arrow after arrow I ran for the gate. _Stupid, Jimmy!_ I chided myself, _bloody careless!_ I rounded the next bend and took shelter beneath a collapsed roof. I was safe for now but if there was one, there were more. The archer could only be a sentry otherwise there would be no reason for her to be here. My assumptions confirmed as boots thudded closer to my hiding spot. I crouched and waited to see how many had come to investigate. Holding my breath and silently slipping the dagger from my belt into my other hand, I watched as two sets of iron clad grieves approached.

"We know you're here!" A burly voice growled, "come out now and we'll make your short life a quick death."

 _An invitation to die,_ I smirked, _how quaint._ I gripped the axe tighter, readying myself for what would eventually come. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing to control my racing heart. _Kill or be killed. Kill or be killed. Kill or be killed._ I chanted the mantra until only those words filled my mind and then stepped forward, straightening to my full height and opening my eyes.

Two men stood before me, withered and malnourished. Dirt and grime covered their skin where the rags of their clothes and armour did not. _Nothing but common thugs,_ I mused. "I'm right here," spreading my arms wide, "take ya best shot."

One carried a war hammer, his movements slow and cumbersome to deal with the weight of the crude iron. "Looks like yer not as much of a coward as we thought."

I laughed, the sound echoing eerily off the shattered walls. It was mirthless and full of all the hatred I had for these cutthroat beggars. I laid my pack on the ground accompanied by the bow and quiver of arrows. "Two against one," I pointed at them, "and you're calling me a coward?" I spat.

"Enough of this!" The other charged me, shield raised and sword ready to strike. I strafed to his side knocking the shield down with my axe and slicing his sword wielding forearm with the dagger. He stumbled forward trying swipe at me before he fell, I dodged his useless attempt and leant back, driving my heel into his face, content as the muffled sound of his nose and jaw crunched beneath my boot.

The brigand sprawled in the ash, unmoving and blood seeping from his open mouth. I stepped towards the other, bearing my teeth in a wicked grin. "One down, one to go," I sighed brandishing my axe, "come at me!"

He was cautious, keeping me at a distance and only swung when I came within reach of his heavy weapon. I followed as he retreated further from the debris, forcing him to lift and swing the hammer as I feinted more attacks against him. My grin spread as I saw him panting, veins pulsed along his arms and the muscles tensing to what I knew as the point of cramping.

I heard it before I saw it, the whistling as an arrow pierced through wind. I couldn't move fast enough, pain arced through my shoulder as the head plunged inwards. I howl as the shaft protrudes to the other side, I couldn't look, not yet while my adversary stood ready to strike me down. Unable to lift my arm, I dropped the dagger and focussed to keep my other weapon between me and him.

From left and right the hammer swung. I jumped to keep myself out of reach, every jolt sending another sear of agony up my left shoulder. _This is getting me nowhere,_ I thought as I dodged another blow. The bandit stumbled as he followed through and I backed up another few paces. A good ten metres separated us now and I knew what had to be done.

He rose slowly, digging the shaft of the hammer into the ground as a support for his wearied frame. "You just lost," I spat. With a roar I let the axe fly, it made no sound to my ears as head span over shaft. The bandit dropped his weapon, holding his hands to shield his face and eyes scrunched closed awaiting the contact from my weapon. A sickening squelch reached my ears and red drops seeped out through cloth and furs. Embedded into the chest of the bandit was my axe, the patch of red growing larger while the lights of his eyes dimmed. He collapsed and moved no longer.

I walked over to the now dead man and wrenched the axe out. Blood fell freely, pooling around the lifeless body. I felt nothing for him as I wiped the stains off the blade. No disgust or resentment, not even joy from the triumph of surviving. Picking up my knife I knelt next to his head. I didn't feel what happened next, I only saw.

My hand moved of its own accord and grasped the sharp edged. With one quick movement a thin red line split open in my palm, fingers clenched and droplets fell to the chest wound of the bandit. My head began to ring and then that voice, that haunting and exasperate voice.

"Blood of death, blood of life, blood for blood the final price."

I was shocked. The words came from my mouth, 'my' voice. Feeling my self shaking meant I was in control of my limbs once more. I wobbled to my feet and backed away to what could only be described as sacrificial patronage. I hauled my pack onto my one good shoulder along with the bow and arrows. Both weapons secured in my belt, I moved as fast as I dared so as not to jostle my other shoulder, seeing the arrow head stuck out above my pectoral did not give me confidence as a clean wound. _Too many muscles, too many joints._

As I reached the gate I looked back to find the archer still watching me. She had no arrow and her arms hung limply at her sides. I flicked a small salute that may have passed as a wave but she understood and gave me the same gesture in return. Respect among survivors, among the living. "Hunt well," I whispered and left that place of death.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm Aliiiiive! I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in over a year. Life got the better of me and I haven't had the motivation to write anything. For all you readers still out there I hope this sates your appetite and please review. Alright, cheers all and I hope there are still some that want me to continue this piece of fickle form we all call art.**

Chapter 6 - **Drunkards, Tramps and Thieves**

I shivered as another gust blew through the cave mouth, my small fire quivering as if it sympathised with my predicament. I had barely left Helgen before the winds strengthened and as night fell, so did the snow.

Water began to steam in the bowl over the fire. I took a swig of wine and breathed out harshly, the burn from the liquid quickly warming my insides. I was not looking forward to this next part and downed another few gulps to still my nerves.

The arrow was still in my shoulder, I had distracted myself from the pain by continuing my trek until the blizzard had truly set in, forcing me to shelter. Now, I sat by a dwindling fire, my tunic ripped on the left sleave and the sodden leathers draped across the stones. I placed a cloth in the bowl and took the dagger that balanced upon my knee. Biting down on the hilt, I grasped the end of the shaft that stuck out from my back. Feathers tickled my fingers and the tingle of pain trembled through my shoulder, _break it or keep it Jimmy,_ my thoughts provoking me as I began to bend the tail.

The agony doubled and I bit down harder until finally, the arrow had snapped. I gazed at the feathers intricately spliced for mere seconds, tossing it away in contempt as I remembered the rest was still jutting out the front of my shoulder. I held the now steaming and drenched cloth in my left and clasped the arrowhead. Taking deep and slow breaths, I readied myself for the onslaught. I motioned my body, rocking back and forth for the momentum of what I was about to do. _Three!_ The arrow jerked at first causing the knife to drop from my mouth as the wave of hurt flared with unbelievable force. As it began to slide, I cried out all the anguish I had been holding. Gritting my teeth, I continued pulling. Blood ran fresh from the wound and stained the wood as I saw more of it removed.

With another grunt, the arrow was ultimately free from my shoulder. I gasped and moaned as my hand shook violently with the broken projectile. My anger took over from seeing it and I threw it into the burning embers, sparks flickering outwards of the cave. Eyeing the blood dripping onto the stones, I quickly covered the wound with the cloth I still held, hissing as the pressure caused me more discomfort.

I sat there gazing at the fire. All my energy had been drained more from pulling the arrow than the fight I had had only hours earlier. _Where's the magic now when I'm awake?_ I glowered and pressed further onto the wound, memories resurfacing of being struck by lightning and then waking to find 'her' gone and my arm miraculously healed. _"I'm not leaving you behind."_ Léna's words almost sang back to me and those clear, blue eyes burning into mine.

"Then where are you now?" I yelled, kicking another log to the fire in frustration. I keeled over as another surge from the wound emerged from my outburst. "Suppose I deserve that," I groaned and leant up against the cave wall. Looking out to the raging blizzard, I sighed knowing I'd be here for at least the rest of the night. I would not sleep this time, the dreams scared me of what I might see and the pain made it hard to get comfortable.

* * *

The embers of my fire began to die. I peered out of the cave mouth, _white,_ I thought. The storm had died in the early hours before dawn, leaving everything a glistening and brilliant white. Strapping on the leathers, I made ready to leave. My right shoulder hung low with the weight, the other still injured, not even capable of holding my axe. The cloth now soiled a deep burgundy was encrusted to my shoulder, the cuirass pinning it in position. Crude and uncomfortable, but effective I had thought.

I trudged downwards through the steep valley, jagged cliffs pressing on both sides and the sun glaringly bright as it rose in front of me. Shielding my eyes, I saw the land before me. Trees began to scatter on both sides of the path and grass came in clumps as it levelled out. I was nearing the end of the snowy paths. Ivarstead would be north of me if I recalled the map correctly, but I had already lost too much time with the blizzard. My destination was east.

I followed the road, not daring to venture off the well-worn track in case the inhabitants of this region gave interest to me as a meal. At the thought of food, my stomach ached but I continued to press on, nothing else mattered besides getting to Riften and finding the thief. My hand clenched tighter on the straps of my pack as I remembered that night in the tavern. I had seen him enter, heard him speak, seen him observing and watching me leave. _"Not my problem,"_ I had told myself and now I was chasing him half way across the countryside, hunting him. I had my chance that night and I let it slip. I would not hesitate again, this time I would make sure when I found this thief, my hand would crush his throat.

The road twisted towards a running river and carried on along its bank. The wine now finished, I filled the skin with ice cool water, revelling as I drank from my hands and it dribbled down my chin. I knew I was close now. I could see the river widening towards a lake and on the other side would be Riften, the home of thieves. The sun dipped low behind me, its warmth ebbing away with the light. As night grew, I dragged my feet up to the main gate of the city. Guards posted on either side watched my approach as cumbersome and slow as I was.

"Halt," one of the guards loomed over me. "To enter the city, you must pay the toll," his hand held out expectantly.

My pack slumped to the ground and I inched my axe slightly from my belt. "I'll pay in blood," I growled, my annoyance seething from the greed of this city.

The guards turned to look at each other, their helmets taking all personification away. _I could kill them,_ I thought. The eye slits were small, obscuring all peripheral vision making it easy to attack them now without noticing until too late. I stayed my hand and waited as the other shrugged and they turned to face me once more. "Alright, we'll let you in," the guard groused, "but you stay out of trouble while you're here or you'll pay more than just blood."

I grinned and released my axe. Slouching my pack back over my shoulder, I brushed past them both and shoved my elbow against the nearest of the two guards. Turning as I pushed open the gate, I glared at them one last time and whispered vehemently, "No promises."

I made my way quickly to the inn. The stench of the canals overpowering my nostrils and making me dry reach with every breath. As I entered into the warmth, I was bombarded by boisterous laughter coming from the bar. A burly man sat on a stool holding his stomach as his chortling subsided. Black plates of steel covered his arms and legs and atop his head, an open-faced helm with horns protruding from the sides curving down and towards the man's shaved chin.

I took a seat by the fire, resting my belongings beside me and began massaging my shoulder. As I looked up an Argonian approached me, my hand instinctively going to my belt. "How may I help you landstrider?" He hissed, the sound putting me even more on edge as I looked for signs of hostility.

I do not know how long I stared at the reptilian, all my focus trained on him. Green scales glistening from the fire and those yellow, slitted eyes looking back at me and then down to my hand still holding the blade. He stepped back a few paces, just far enough so he was out of my reach. Raising his hands, I saw the look of fear and the small discreet glance he made to the other of his kind behind the bar. I steadily released my fingers from the hilt and splayed them on my knees. "Sorry," I said giving a half smile, "thought you were somebody else."

I watched as a flicker of anger washed over the bartender's features. The slight contraction of the pupils, neck muscles tensing under the ripple of bony plates and the clenching of his fists. "You Nords are all the same," he hissed, the hint of vehemence in his tone. "We came here to be rid of the shunning of our kind."

My hands instinctively went above my head as I realised what I had done. "My apologies barkeeper, I've never met any of your kind before." I tried to placate him, "I only know of a thief that I'm here to hunt for." I pulled forth my pouch of gold and offered a few drakes on to the table. "I hope I can at the least get a drink and maybe a meal, I've been on the road for most of the day." Tipping more coins onto the table and pushing them towards him.

"Argh, be off with ya scalehide," The Nord I had seen on entering slapped the Argonian across the shoulders, taking the seat opposite me. "And bring back a barrel o' mead and some o' that smoked veal." He waved him off and I watched as the barman quickly backtracked, almost fearful of this great hulk of a man.

I watched this man before me. Scars riddled his arms where his armour did not conceal. _A fighter,_ I mused, _an honourable warrior,_ I began to judge his choice of breastplate. Rust had begun to encrust along the edges of metal and blood still stained its black surface. He took his final swig from his tankard and stared back at me, pale blue eyes piercing past my armour and into my very soul. I grew nervous and reached for my dagger, my other hand tensed upon the table.

"If yer gonna hold it, yer better be willin' te use it." His eyes twitched towards my arm poised with the hand on the knife. "Or are ya as yella' as that scalehide?" He crossed his arms as he leant back in his chair. I didn't speak as my fingers clenched on the shaft, anger rising from this warrior's taunting. The smirk on his face began to infuriate me as I sat there, whether to punch him or submit and lower my hand from my weapon. "Maybe yer just stupi-"

"Ragh!" My hand brought forth the axe from my belt, flying high and the shaft sliding up through my hand until the pommel rested on my wrist. I brought the wedge down with speed and embedded it in the table between us. I stared him in the eye as my muscles flexed in my forearm, I would not be made to look like a coward. "Don't insult me." I growled the fervour in my voice as that I had used against the vagrants back in Helgen.

The Nord smiled and leant forward, fingers pressing on the edge of the table. "Do yer know who ah am, boy?" His thick accent -Scottish I thought- grating now across the sudden silence.

I glanced at the fellow attendees in the bar. Their faces riddled in concern and trepidation for this oncoming brawl, ready to flee if it escalated further. I let go of my axe and cracked my neck joints and knuckles, letting the popping sounds pressurise against the silence. "A name can give a thousand faces," I voiced barely above a whisper, "an axe can take a face and never know the name."

"Hargh!" The Nord slapped his belly, a smile broadening across his face. "Well spoken lad, there migh' be some Nord in you yet." I glanced at the patrons again and found them all staring in bewilderment before going back to their drinks and conversation. I wrenched my weapon free, depositing it back to my belt as my eyes never left the warrior, his guise one of content as his arms folded across his broad chest.

The Argonian returned hefting a barrel of mead on to the chair beside me only looking at both of us after sighting the wound in the wooden table that my hands now occupied. "Ah," my hands flustered back to my knees as I looked back at him, "I'll pay for the damage."

A fist slammed on the table averting our gaze back to the warrior before me. "No, he won't, scalehide." A growl if ever I heard one escaped the Nord's lips, "he's with me, I'll make sure te give ye a few jewels to put aroon tha' pretty neck o' yer mate." A glint in his eye and a maleficent grin breached from him to the flustered bartender. "And where be tha' meat?" He crowed as we saw the back of him for a second time.

We sat in silence for a time. I fingered my axe blade as I looked at this warrior, _what does he want?_ My mind coming up with all sorts of scenarios, _I hope he's not gay,_ I admonished that thought as quickly as my imaginings got the best of me. I shuddered and gripped across the sharp edge of my axe to be rid of that visualisation, feeling as the blade bit into my fingers.

A tankard slopped in front of me, the hand drawing back to the other and raising it. "Drink," the Nord insisted, downing his own. I hefted the cup in my good hand and sniffed the brew, _cautious man is a living man._ Considering it sufficient I sculled the contents and thumped the cup back to the table. The alcohol rushed to my head, _oh shit._ I hadn't eaten at all today and now I was paying the price. _Eh, bugger it._ I shrugged inwardly, _not every day I'm shouted a drink._ The Nord took my cup and began to refill it, "so wha' does a lone hunter wan' with a thief?" He enquired handing the cup back.

I took another swig before I spoke and went with the simplest answer, "he took something that didn't belong to him."

The Nord scoffed at me, "Tha's wha' thieves do."

I shook my head, his brows arching for my explanation. I set my mug down and clasped my hands upon the table, "I had a chance to stop him before he committed the crime and…" my mouth turned down to a sneer at my past inadequacy.

"Ye let 'im go." It was not a question or an accusation. He said them as fact. I nodded, sinking into my cup and finishing it once more. That little fact plagued my mind now, _"ye let 'im go,"_ I did let him go when he had committed no crime, _"not my problem,"_ I told myself to be rid of the suspicions I felt at the time. _And now what Jimmy?_ I screamed at myself, _this ain't like a car you can just leave for the night and fix in the morning._

I push my cup forward for the Nord to fill again. "So how do I find the Thieves' Guild?" I asked, sharp eyes turn towards me from all directions even those from the darkest corner. The Nord did a quick glance around the room as well and then began to fill my mug.

Eyes focussed on pouring the drink he replied, "Dead, if ye plan on goin in cock headed like ye are."

I swiped the mug back once he was done, "then give me what I need!" I bellowed, the patrons now ignoring us.

The Nord rubs the back of his head in dismay, "there no' be much I can tell ya aboot them," he sighed. Resting his arms across the table, his eyes looked into mine once more. "Bu' ah can see yer no' gonna le' this go."

I took a long drink and slammed the mug bare inches from his fingers. "And what can you see?" I roared, not caring for how loud I was. "Answer me what no man has been able to answer!"

He sighed again, I began to chafe from his gestures. "Yer like a man ah once knew," He breathed, "he was a hunter as well and when his hunt ended…"

I scoffed at this, "and don't tell me, when his hunt ended he took his life?"

His fist slammed into the table, splinters freeing themselves from the axe wound I had made earlier. "No!" he shouted, the words reverberating around the inn. "He followed his path with a Nord's heart, determined to come home"

 _Home, I don't have a home._ I almost wanted to shout it back to this man I barely knew. Instead my temperament was stolen by my isolation of where I was. _I am alone, I have no one._ "So… Did he come home?" I look at the warrior, his blue eyes staring back at mine, their hardness forming from my words burning my tongue from such a blunder of questions. "No then." I answer, "either that or he never had one."

His stern gaze consolidated with the scowl of his lips, posture changing to one of protection. "Skyrim was his home lad," He whispered and clenched his fists ever tighter against his powerful biceps. "The same as all true Nords, like ye an' me."

I downed the dregs of my mead and readied my belongings to be away from here. Looking back at the warrior, his eyes glazed, seeing off to somewhere I could not. "I'm hunting this thief down, for better or worse." I sighed. Stepping towards the door I turned back to him and watched as his expression did not falter. "Name's Jarek by the way," I whispered to only him. "If I see ya again, next drink is on me."

I sauntered back into the cool, night chill. The reek of the canals did not make me gag this time so I was pleased my visit for drink had not been truly wasted. I still had no information on the whereabouts of this Thieves' Guild. I wandered about the streets, thinking how I would find them when I saw a woman with a curvaceous figure and a revealing dress stepped out from a dark doorway.

I slowly made my way to her, mulling over my predicament and how to approach the subject of thieves to her. "You looking for a bed handsome?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and glanced to either side then back to this busty woman. "Ey?" I exclaimed, pointing towards myself.

"Yes, you," she walked towards me, all grace I had never seen in a woman. Her hips swaying kept me in a hypnotizing state. "Needing a bed?" She purred, "handsome."

I faltered, my mind trying to work and coming up blank to this blonde goddess. "Ah, uhm, bed?" I stammered, trying to find my words instead of finding my eyes focusing to her exposed cleavage. A smile caught her thick lips as she crossed her arms behind her back and bent low to look me in the eye, giving me full view of her assets. Before I could do anything stupid, I fumbled for my coin purse. "H-how much for a bed for the night?" I said bringing it forward.

She chuckled lightly and came closer, drawing me towards the door with a gentle hand caressing my back. "Come inside and we'll talk payment," the woman now so close, seemed to tower over me as she opened to the entry and warmth within. Many occupants riddled the tables to my left, workers most of them judging by their drab attire. The Nord woman gestured to a seat next to a fidgeting Argonian then left me as she made her way sweeping up tankards and cups as a practised glasser in a pub of my own world.

I kept to myself, the squirming Argonian made me uneasy. I turned and found another maid walking towards us. Hair as bright as fire though her conduct towards me was one of defeat and solemnity. "Hail maid, could I get a drink?" I hollered, throwing several gold pieces in her direction. With a nod, she disappeared from my line of sight and left me to deliberate my options to find the thieves' hideout.

I hated to admit but that warrior was right. My impatient actions would kill me if I went after the thieves now. I had basically claimed myself as an enemy to them, warned them I was hunting one of their company. _You idiot, Jim,_ I scolded. My ego had gotten the better of me when now, more than ever, I needed to tread carefully within the lion's den as it were.

The redhead maid rested a tankard of mead during my contemplation, withdrawing once again with neither a word between us. I sipped at the drink tentatively and pondered which drunk would be most willing to give information. Just when I was about to open my mouth, the buxom beauty that lured me in here slumped next to me. Her perfume stung my nostrils, overpoweringly sweet with lavender and clung to me as her arm rubbed against my shoulder.

"So, what brings a hunter out of the woods?" She asked, hair brushed back with a flick of her wrist.

I paused to compose myself, exhaling through my nose to be rid of the sharp fragrance that wafted around my head. "Thieves," I murmured and took another gulp of mead. The honeyed alcohol taking over my assaulted nostrils.

If there was a hint of shock, I didn't see it. The hostess nestled closer to me, an elegant hand touched my arm and she spoke soft and tenderly. "I may be able to help you, come and we'll talk privately." A dip of her lashes then she was on her feet ushering me away from the table and up a flight of stairs. The young redheaded maid watched us pass, incredulity in her eyes that quickly turned to disgust. I was perplexed, what had I done to harbor those looks if I was being helped in my endeavour for information.

I heard the door latch click behind me and was aware of only a bed in the small room. No tables or chairs, just a modest nightstand with a solitary candle in its candelabra that the hostess lit upon entering.

I let out an exaggerated sigh as I sat on the bed, sinking slightly into the straw mattress. I had not realised how exhausted I was until that moment. My eyes began to close of their own volition and my arms growing heavier as I tried to remove my bracers. The hostess moved into my line of site and interrupted my struggle, her dextral fingers replacing mine and swiftly unclasping the leather straps and freeing my forearm.

"What's your name, hunter?" She asked, moving on to the other bracer. "I like to know who's name I will be screaming tonight."

"Jarek," I sighed as the leather slackened from my wrist. I flexed my fingers, feeling the tension ebb away and setting me into a state of bliss. _Wait, what?_


End file.
